Warning: Non-consensual sex scenes throughout this chapter. This chapter is as dark or darker than Chapter 8. Read at your own risk.

Galinda?—he asked in a Munchkinland accent. His mouth curling. His eyes dark. His face…familiar. She paused. Why in Oz had she paused?! Why hadn't she responded? Or asked his name? Or grabbed his arm?

He ran. She watched. Until she wasn't watching, she was dashing. Weaving through the stands. Leaving Elphie and the others behind. Elbowing her way through the crowds who were eating grilled meat sticks and fried honey bread and drinking pints of mead and lager, pints that were tossed on Glinda as she collided into patrons, mumbling her apologies and pushing forward. She passed stand after stand, watching the agile man leap over boxes, spin around small children, dodge jesters and push men breathing fire and juggling knives aside. But it wasn't long before he slipped behind a group of women fanning themselves and disappeared. Glinda's hands were on her knees, her breaths coming hard. She bit her lip, bruised it until it opened. It didn't mean anything. Her name. Her past. Her life. Before. She was nothing before Elphaba. A nothing to get upset about. A nothing to want.

"Are you okay, Miss?" asked a middle-aged Munchkinlander woman in an apron, manning a stand.

"Come, girl," a man said behind her.

Glinda straightened to look at the speaker, but before she could, he grabbed her shoulder and escorted her inside a tent. It was dark. Despite the summer heat, it felt drafty, like a wind was blowing deep within. It tunneled, the coldness fresh like pinpricks. Glinda's arms and legs goosebumped. Would the tent never end? How could the man even see? She wanted to turn, to leave, to call for Elphie.

"Here we are," he said and turned them around a carpeted corner.

There were two chairs and a small wooden table. The table was dressed with a black runner, on which sat several lit white candles, and one empty glass. Behind the table were a bookshelf with more lit candles, bottles of colored liquids, and jars full of cigars, flowers, and candies.

"Have a seat, my dear."

She sat, mostly to get closer to the light to appraise her surroundings. The man was taller than she imagined. His hunch made him roughly the height of Avaric, but standing straight he was sure to be a foot taller. His hair was an ashy black, his skin a pale, sickly white, his eyebrows leaden and drooping, and his speckled mustache hung over his lip, its ends waxed and curled. His face was long like a horse and his smile made Glinda feel as if he were laughing, at her. He wore a simple black suit, black jacket, black breeches, black boots. Grabbing a bottle of green liquid off the shelf, he poured it into the glass. How she wished she hadn't run off without Elphie. What if Elphie was looking for her? What if she was worried?

"You must be parched, dear. Drink up," he said.

The green insides of the glass whirled like living pond algae.

Glinda cringed. "It isn't water."

"It's better. It will help you find the man you were looking for," he said.

The hair on Glinda's neck raised.

"How did you know I was looking for a man?"

"You were running after one, weren't you?"

Glinda nodded. This man must have seen her dashing after the stranger. Feeling foolish but still spooked she asked,

"And how would this help?"

"It's a recipe of mine. It'll make things clear. Just think of a question and the answer will be given."

Any question? Like where the man was? Or how he knew her? Or who she was? Or where she came from? But Glinda had promised not to ask. Elphaba has been so scared. And Glinda understood why. She had seen what the truth did to Pfannee and Avaric. While they were civil, they walked as if a whole war stood between them. What if that happened to them? Glinda worried that her old self might be as foul as Elphaba's Galinda. But that Munchkin man had known her. She might have been friends with Munchkinlanders. At the very least, it meant she knew them. Maybe she wasn't like Elphaba's Galinda after all. Maybe there was a good reason her company had needed those jewels. Maybe there was a reason they had to leave her?

Glinda raised the glass and smelt it. Sour apples, crushed basil, and a dash of ginger. Not as unpleasant as its appearance.

"Go on," he said with a sigh. "It didn't kill you."

"You mean it "won't," Glinda said.

"Yes, yes," he said, motioning for her to drink.

"Any question I want?"

"Any question at all."

…

Elphaba ran after Glinda but a man carrying crates stepped before her and she couldn't redirect herself. She crashed into him, knocking him back, his caramel apples flying. Regaining his balance, he wouldn't let her bypass without apologizing several times over. When he released her, Glinda was gone. Elphaba's skin went clammy. It was fine. Everything was fine. She would find Glinda. The girl couldn't have gone far. She couldn't have been chasing who she thought. How would Glinda have even recognized him? It must have been one of her students. Yes, that was it. Glinda was chasing one of her students. When Elphaba found her, they would have a good laugh, and everything would be fine.

"My dear is that you?" she heard a familiar voice say. Turning, she faced her fear.

The woman was a bit skinnier than Elphaba remembered, her face more flaccid, but her adoring smile was just the same.

Nanny started her story right in the middle, without even a proper greeting. The Princess had disappeared, she said. I don't like to gossip, she said, but the castle had changed. The King went out of his mind. He looked for his daughter, here and there. He stayed away from Runcible, wandering the highlands of other countries, squandering Runcible's riches, bribing anyone he knew to give him a shred of information. The lie that Galinda was very ill no longer held. The people whispered that Galinda was dead. The King was mad. A new house was needed on the throne. Even his advisors whispered. If Glinda was gone, Sir Chuffrey had no one to marry. The Gillikinese state of Paltos would need to be consoled, but what could Runcible give Paltos that it couldn't take for itself?

Elphaba could care less if it Runcible ruled Gillikin or if Paltos did. Both Gillikinese states participated in destroying Munchkinland. Let them destroy themselves. Her face must have said as much for Nanny explained the difference: Runcible while unbearably proud at least let Munchkinlanders stay in Gillikin, free to work and live as they pleased. Paltos lords, on the other hand, wanted Munchkinlanders expelled. Of if Munchkinlanders were to stay, they said Gillikin needed new laws. Munchkinlanders shouldn't be allowed to marry Gillikinese, lest their height disease spread throughout Gillikin. They could be servants of Gillikinese but never merchants, shopkeepers or doctors. Some Paltos lords even suggested a mass killing to finish what the war started.

Elphaba couldn't imagine it. She didn't have the stamina. Who would welcome a sea of Munchkinlander migrants? Being expelled from Gillikin was its own death sentence. If Paltos didn't enslave or kill them, the neighboring countries would. She could hear no more.

"Lovely to see you, Nanny. But I must be going. I've seemed to have lost my sister in the crowd," Elphaba said, turning.

"You weren't even surprised to hear she was gone," Nanny called after her.

Elphaba stopped.

"Indifference is the anecdote for surprise. As you know Princess Galinda and I, we—we never got on."

"Well, if you should see her, dear—"

"Why would I ever see her?" Elphaba said louder than she cared to, hands clenched.

"Just if you should, my dear, just if you should. Be sure to send her home. She may be the only way to stop Paltos."

…

Finishing the drink, Glinda convulsed. She kept her promise. She didn't ask about herself. Not directly. She asked why she was in the woods that night. But instead of her own memories, she saw Elphaba's. The woman was naked. Tied to a chair. Being raped by a man in the dark. Another man stood watching, grinning. She stood behind Elphie, unable to move, unable to pry him off of her. Her ears rang. She shook her head. Covered her eyes. But she could still hear their breathing. No. No. No! She screamed but no sound escaped her lips. Then she was running. Through the darkness. Through the tent. She couldn't stop. Footsteps clapped behind her. She didn't dare look back. She ran until she was out, out of the tent, into the crowds, crashing into the aproned woman across the way.

"My dear, what's happened?" the woman said holding her. Glinda couldn't speak. Her heart was beating too fast. She was afraid if she turned around, the man in the black suit would be there. And he would take her back inside. Make her watch that horrible scene, again and again.

"Glinda!" she heard Elphie call out.

"Elphie! Where are you?" Glinda asked, her head popping up from the woman's bosom, searching the crowd.

She saw a sprig of green. Wading through several Munchkin families. Just as Glinda moved toward her, the man in the black came between them.

"Excuse me, sir," Elphie said, trying to scoot around him.

"Elphaba," he said.

She stopped.

"How did you know my—"

"Can't seem to stay away from her, can you?" he asked Elphie.

"Have we met befo—"

"Why do you always return to her!" he said, pointing at Glinda, gone was the kind voice he used earlier. "No matter what she costs you, you always return, don't you?"

Elphie looked around. "Who are you?" she hissed.

"You already know, Elphaba. Come back to me," he said. The crowd, filled with fire breathers and jesters and Munchkins, pressed tight around them, seemed unaware or unconcerned with their argument.

Glinda wanted to snatch Elphie away. She wanted to put this man behind them, but she was too weak from whatever she ingested to beat through the swirling crowds.

"One can't go back to where one's never been. You've mistaken me for someone else. Please let me pass."

"I am to you what the Kumbric Witch is to this thing," he said, gesturing with his head toward Glinda.

Elphie blinked several times.

The Kumbric Witch? The Witch in Avaric's book of stories? The Mother of St. Glinda? Glinda shook her head. Those stories were about centuries past. The Kumbric Witch wasn't alive now. What nonsense was the man spewing, Glinda wondered.

Elphie tried to skirt past him. He moved in front of her again.

"What is she calling herself these days? The Fairy Godmother of the Lowly?"

A fairy godmother?

"I wouldn't know," Elphie said.

"You never spoke to her in the forest? Never made any wishes? Never wished for this one here?" he asked, pointing at Glinda again. Of course Elphaba hadn't wished for her. Elphie hadn't wanted her at all. It was her thievery that brought her to Elphie. The man was spouting twaddle.

Elphie shook her head, repeatedly.

"She was the only thing you ever lied about," he said, sighing.

"I don't know who's put you up to this," Elphie said, "but your antic is finished."

"The only thing that's finished, Elphaba, is your ruse," he said. " She knows the truth about herself!"

Face pale, Elphie glanced at Glinda as if to confirm. But confirm what? What truth? What was she supposed to know?

"It won't end well for you two. You know it won't. Come back to me!" the man said.

"I've told you: I—do—not—know—you! Now step away from me and my friend or you will know me in ways you wish you hadn't!" Elphie said and again tried to make her way to her.

"Don't make the same mistake again and again," he said and grabbed Elphie's arm, yanking.

"Leave go of her!" Glinda yelled, jumping up.

He guffawed. Until the aproned woman behind Glinda said in a voice that was not her own.

"Release her!"

His laughter caught in his throat.

"Still trying to save them, Yackle?" he asked.

Elphie pried his fingers off and made her way toward Glinda. Glinda hugged her, leaning into the lace of Elphie's black dress. Elphie rushed Glinda away.

"This isn't over, Elphaba!" the man yelled out behind them.

Elphie turned and scowled.

"Please! Let's just go home," Glinda said, not wanting to be in the man's horrid presence any longer.

"Of course, my sweet," Elphie said, "We'll go at once." She gave the man one last hard glare before she escorted them off.

…

Elphaba walked Glinda through the crowds, toward the front gate. Boq, Nessa, Avaric, and Pfannee would have to enjoy the carnival without them. Glinda trembled. Even if the man lied about what Glinda knew. Something had happened to her.

"My pretty, where did you go?" Elphaba asked, holding her close, watching the girl touch her stomach, grimacing as they stepped into the woods.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Glinda cried out, holding her stomach.

"It's okay. Let's get you home," Elphaba said. Unable to slow and risk Nanny finding them, she sped-walked them, out the gate, through the forest, into their cabin, insisting Glinda get into bed while she made tea downstairs. She paced as she waited for the water to boil. Her mind listing the evening's horrors. Glinda disappearance. Nanny's insinuation. And the man who knew about her wishes. Who was he and what did he do to Glinda? He said he was the equivalent to Yackle, but the only equivalent to Yackle in those stories was the Wizard. The evil wizard who killed St. Glinda. But Glinda wasn't dead and for everything the man seemed to know, he lied. If Glinda knew their past, she wouldn't be waiting for her in their room right now. Still waiting! Elphaba hurried with the cup of hot tea and ascended the stairs.

When she entered her room, Glinda was doubled over in bed, biting her lip.

"What's wrong?" Elphaba exclaimed, hurrying as fast as she could with the tea in her hand. Setting the cup on the windowsill, she rolled Glinda back, putting a warm firm hand on her abdomen. A green smudge was at the crook of Glinda's mouth. Elphaba wiped it.

"Did you have something to drink at the carnival?" she asked.

Glinda gasped.

"How…*pant*…did….you know?"

"Your mouth. It's green. And, so far, I've never worn off on you," Elphaba said, smirking.

Glinda smiled before she shut her eyes, grimacing against another wave of pain.

"It was…*pant*…my fault."

"Breathe slowly, my pretty. You're not making any sense. What's your fault? What did you drink?" Elphaba asked, with a hand behind Glinda's head, the girl's breaths becoming shallower and shallower.

"Elphie…*grimace*… he knew… my name."

"That man in the black suit?"

Elphaba still wondered how he knew hers, but Glinda shook her head as Elphaba rubbed Glinda's stomach in a circle.

"Not that man *pant* the man… I was chasing."

Elphaba's hand stopped.

"You mean your student?"

Glinda shook her head and groaned "No, no, not a student…but…he was a Munchkinlander."

"How would you know?"

"His voice."

"He only said your name," Elphaba said. It couldn't have been. It just couldn't!

"But, *pant* he sounded—Uhhh—just like you!" Glinda said, "Elphie, *pant* don't you see *pant* what this means—I knew—Ah!— Munchkinlanders!"

"Glinda, enough! You can barely speak!" Elphaba snapped.

Glinda bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

Feeling awful, Elphaba said, "I didn't mean to fuss. I just—"

"I thought you'd be happy," Glinda said, "If I knew Munchkinlanders,*pant* if my company was made of Munchkinlanders…maybe I wasn't as bad as Galinda was. Even if I was a thief, *pant* maybe I was different."

Elphaba didn't want to do this tonight. She didn't want to lie. Every time it felt heavier, made their world seem hollower.

"You already are different!" was all she could say.

"Ah!" Glinda cried out, one hand grabbing Elphaba's arm and holding her stomach.

"My sweet! Let me get some peppermint downstairs. I'll be right back," Elphaba said. "And then you must tell me what you drank."

Glinda nodded, gnashing her teeth.

Elphaba was relieved to be in the night air, dodging another conversation about Glinda's past. Finding the mint bush in the moonlight, she grabbed leaves, stuffing them in her dress pocket, planning what to say when she returned.

"Elphaba!" she heard that familiar voice say.

Elphaba's body tingled, every inch of her bristling. All these days waiting and he snuck up on her like a thief in the night. She turned around and there he was. He looked almost the same, except for a short stubble he let grow on his chin. She was in motion before she knew it, pulling him in, embracing him, crushing the breath out of them. He tensed, before he wrapped his arms around her, gently.

"Where have you been?" Elphaba whispered before shock broke into relief, "Do you know how I've worried about you? How sick I've been wondering what happened to you? Have you given one thought to us?"

"Every day!" he said with a pained stare. "Every day I've imagined you."

His agony made Elphaba withdraw. Shell confused her sense of failure with repulsion.

"Not like that!" he said, stepping back, giving Elphaba a safe distance, his chin dropping to his chest.

"Shell, you mustn't ever think that I—" Elphaba said, walking toward him.

He shied away, not letting her touch him.

"You were right," he whispered, "You were right about Galinda. I didn't listen. I refused to believe you. I didn't know anything about her," and then darkly, looking off into the distance, "I couldn't even tell the difference."

"Shell, listen to me. That night wasn't your fault! It wasn't!"

She had waited almost a year to tell him. Practiced it a thousand times. But it didn't land.

"I see her. In my nightmares," he said. "She's even poisoned my waking life. I came to the carnival for Nessa's birthday. I wanted to see you both. I couldn't keep away. I was hoping you might be there. I meant to greet you at the entrance, but the strangest thing was I saw her standing beside you. I even imagined her chasing me. Imagine the Princess of Gillikin at a carnival for Munchkinlanders?"

Elphaba didn't know how to tell him and then she didn't have to.

"Elphie, I feel better! It's passed," Glinda said in the doorway, taking a step out and noticing someone behind Elphaba. "Elphie, are you all right?"

Shell recoiled, stumbling backward, moonlight hitting his face.

"It's you!" Glinda said. "You've come back for me?"

"She's here! It can't be! It can't!" Shell moaned, his arms flailing in front of him.

"Shell, it's not her! It's not what it seems!" Elphaba said.

"Shell?" Glinda repeated. Her face taking it in. It wasn't one of her thieves; it was Elphaba's brother. The same brother who knew the other Galinda.

"Get back inside!" Elphaba snarled.

Glinda's face fell, and Elphaba hated herself for it. Penitent, Glinda shut the door. Elphaba had to calm Shell first. She would apologize to Glinda later. Elphaba came close to her brother, who was still on his bottom, shaking his head.

"Elphaba, it's her, isn't it?"

"It's not her. Not anymore!"

"What are you saying?" he said, rising, his whole body trembling.

Elphaba told him. About Yackle, about her wishes, about Nessa's new shoes, about Galinda's transformation into Glinda. Leaving out one tiny little detail. Their love for one another.

"Does Nessa know? Does she know what the Princess did?"

Elphaba's eyes widened. "Of course not! I told her Galinda made accusations against us."

Shell released a bark of laughter.

"Accusations?! She—"

Elphaba shook her head, her hand rising in mid-air. Shell quieted, wiping his face, pacing.

"How can you bear her in our house?"

"I couldn't take back the wishes without taking them all back. I couldn't send Nessa's shoes back, and I couldn't risk losing you," she said.

"I'm home now; we can turn Galinda out."

"It isn't so easy. The forest—they've become attached to her. Even Nessa enjoys her cooking."

"I'll tell Nessy the truth. That will end any enjoyment of her."

"Don't!" Elphaba said. "I don't want her to know, not ever!"

"Fine. Then we'll drown Galinda in one of the bogs. We'll make it look like an accident."

"We can't!"

"Why not?"

Elphaba grabbed at her dress. How was she to say it? He would never understand. If only he got to know her. Saw how different she was. Before she could find an explanation, her body betrayed her, a flush climbing up her neck.

"It's not just the forest," he realized aloud. "You've become attached to her!"

"Don't be an idiot!" she said, blushing deeper.

"More than attached? Do you—do you have feelings for her?"

Elphaba looked down.

"You do!" Shell hissed, "I should have known from the carnival. The way she clung to you!"

Elphaba had nothing to say. She failed Shell, again. All this time and Galinda still stood between them.

…

Months passed and his loathing for her filled the cabin. One day Shell would see who she really was. Wouldn't he? Glinda stood washing the dishes, biting her lip, mashing it. It couldn't go on forever this way. With his long glares, his thick silences, his fast shoves. Glinda was always in his way, and he always found her. She must appear a monster. Hadn't she been one to Nessa and to Elphaba? But she changed their minds. And she was eager to do so again, eager to show Shell that she was worthy of Elphaba's love, eager to show how much she loved Elphaba.

Elphie said Shell needed time. Elphie took time too. Her usual affection seemed bottled up for a later date. Her brother's glare could stop Elphie mid-smile. She withdrew, kept her hands in her lap, instead of on Glinda. She still slept in the same bed, but she didn't move to caress Glinda, rather she kept on her back, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't kiss Glinda when their students weren't looking either. Nor did she ask Glinda to dance when Pfannee came to visit with Avaric. To Elphie, Shell was an omnipresent spectator, waiting for her to betray him with a gesture or a look. Even when he was absent, gone on one of his long walks or accompanying Nessa to visit the Weavers, Elphaba seemed to hold her breath and her hands, tucking them safely behind her back.

Glinda was being selfish. How could she expect anything different, with everything that happened to the siblings? She would bear Elphaba's new chasteness, willingly, patiently…indefinitely, if she must. As long as Elphie still loved her. As long as she still looked at her with those eyes. But not being able to be close to her made Shell's rancor all the more severe.

As she toweled the dishes, Elphie came downstairs.

"Where's Shell?" she asked, a nervousness to her voice as if his reappearance had been a dream.

"In the barn, I think," Glinda said.

Elphaba hurried out, without even a pat on Glinda's shoulder nor a rub of her back. Glinda bit her lip harder, keeping her hands busy.

When the basement hatch sprung open, Glinda jumped, juggling the plate in her hands to keep it from slipping. Shell had apparently not been in the barn.

"Good morning, Master Shell," she said, bowing her head.

His scowl was so hot it could boil chickens. She turned around, squeezing the plate as his feet approached. He came behind her and she braced herself, ready for him to push her, as he often did when Elphaba wasn't looking. Instead, he came closer, his mouth by her ear, his right hand landing on her waist, his body pushing against hers. A hardness stabbed above her buttocks.

"Sh…ell," Glinda whispered, her knuckles white, her throat dry, her legs wobbly.

His hands on her waist pulled her against him. He bucked with a grunt. Hitting between her cheeks. A dark fear struck Glinda. As if she were being sucked into a tarpit.

She panicked, tore away, dropping the plate. It bounced on the floor, shattering by Shell's feet.

"Stupid girl," Shell said and lunged at her. He slapped her face, hard, then once again, harder still.

Her cheeks burned. She held them, pressing back the sting, backing away.

"Pick it up!" he ordered, "Pick it up, I said!"

He touched her. Not in his usual anger. Or if in anger, something more vicious than Glinda imagined. Didn't he know she was Elphie's? Didn't he know how much she loved his sister? That she would never ever betray her, never like that.

"PICK IT UP! Now, girl," he said, raising his hand.

"What's going on?" Nessa said coming downstairs.

Shell, still glaring at her, inhaled, and turned toward the counter.

"She broke our plate, Nessy," he said looking out the window, pelvis properly concealed.

"Clumsy girl," Nessa said, eyes rolling, "Sweep it up, girl, and then make us some breakfast. "

"Yes, my lady," Glinda said, but she didn't move for the broom until Shell turned for the stairs.

…

Shell wasn't in the barn. Elphaba walked to the nearby woods, but he wasn't there either. She kept hurting him. Glinda's presence was an insult, but Elphaba's love for her was the ultimate betrayal. If Elphaba wasn't so selfish she would find the courage to end their relationship. For she was hurting Glinda too. More than once, she had delayed entering their bedroom because she heard Glinda's sniffling. She could see how hard Glinda was trying to please her and Shell. But Shell wouldn't bend. He might have. Had it happened differently. Had he been the one whom Glinda loved. But he wasn't. Elphaba was the target of her affection and he hated Elphaba for it—that she should find in their collective wound a source of private joy. So Elphaba took to hiding her feelings, pushing them away, keeping her distance. All to prove that she loved him, to demonstrate that she would always love him. But what was once a natural disposition for Elphaba—an aloofness, a coldness, a friendlessness—felt impossible to maintain. Glinda had opened her heart and liked corked wine it could not be resealed. At night, she placed her hands on own chest as she slept, lest they wander against her will. In the mornings, she stayed away, unable to meet the longing she found in Glinda's stare, afraid she would buckle, whisk the woman in her arms. She missed the taste of her mouth, the sound of whimpers, the roughness of her nails at her back. Elphaba shook her head, banishing the memories. Not even Shell's pain could stem her desire for Glinda, which neither dulled nor tempered.

Giving up on Shell, she made her way back and found him in the kitchen, carving a tree branch into a figurine. Glinda was absent. Elphaba hung her mantle on the door hook and sat across from him. Her brother the stranger. She knew her other brother, the old Shell. She knew how he coughed when it rained, how he argued when bored, how he laughed in crises, but this Shell was full of secrets. He never stilled. His hands would twitch, his lip would spasm, his teeth would clench as if caught in a violent daydream, like a cat chirping while it imagines disemboweling its prey. Elphaba attempted something she had never excelled at: small talk.

"Have you had something to eat?"

Shell grunted.

"Glinda adept at cooking, wouldn't you say," she offered, wishing she hadn't when Shell narrowed his eyes.

"Have you enjoyed the Weavers' clubs?" she asked, assuming that's where he spent his late evenings when he left with Nessa.

Shell sniggered.

If he refused to be civil, Elphaba refused to be anyone but herself.

"Where have you been these past months while I stayed and tended to Nessa?"

Her brother stilled. A flash of guilt passing in his eyes before they hollowed and he said,

"I've found a remnant of the Royal Munchkin Army near the village of Traum."

"What?!" Elphaba asked. "How many others survived?"

"Quite a mass of them. They've been training and building underground tunnels."

"Training for what?"

Shell looked at her askance.

"To finish the war, of course."

Elphaba scoffed.

"You can't be serious. It's finished and you know how badly we were beaten."

"That was different. Father was an idiot; Runcible was strong. Now Gillikin's King's losing his mind. This is our chance to take back Munchkinland. Many of the Weavers agree. But both of them lack a leader, Elphaba. You are the official descendant of our royal line. You know the inside of Runcible castle. They will follow you. You can take us home."

"Shell, don't be silly! Runcible isn't the only castle we would have to defeat. There's Paltos. There are the Red Sand territories. There's—"

"If we cut off its head, Gillikin would relent. The lords wouldn't sacrifice their existence for their honor. They care only for fame, not for any ideals of valor. And just think how much quicker they would surrender if they knew we already captured their Princess."

"Captured their Princess?" Elphaba asked.

Shell rolled his eyes and stated the obvious,

"Galinda!"

Using Glinda as bait was too preposterous for Elphaba to even consider.

"Where is she?" Elphaba asked, suddenly worried.

Her brother sighed.

"In the barn," he said, whittling away again. "Tell me about you two."

Elphaba felt a speck of hope. Here was the old Shell she knew, her curious, kind, ever-hopeful brother.

"She was different from the Princess, so very different. Glinda's smart, quick as a—"

"I'm not concerned with her intellect!" he snapped, disappearing again. "This little plot of yours," he spat, "this relationship you have with her: it's your revenge against Galinda, isn't it? Didn't you ask for the Princess to be subject to the same suffering she inflicted? Well, how exactly do you make her suffer?!"

Elphaba blanched. She had made Glinda suffer. In the beginning. She silenced her, worked her, ignored her. But those private violences didn't mend anything. And surely Shell couldn't expect that she could hurt Glinda in the same way Galinda hurt her.

"That's not how it is between us."

"Then how is it?" he said with a condescending snort.

A heat rose from deep within Elphaba. That night—she had suffered too! If Shell hadn't been so naive. If he had only listened to her. How long was she to pay the price for both of them? She was the one who returned, eventually. She was the one who stayed with Nessa. She was the one who waited for Shell. She was the one who found a way to banish Galinda. And, yet, it wasn't enough for neither her sister nor her brother. Well, she had no more to give. And she wasn't about to hand over Glinda.

"I love her. That's how it is!" she yelled.

…

In bed with both of them reading, Glinda snuck glances at Elphie. A few hours earlier, without so much as five words, Elphie brought her upstairs, stripped and bedded her, taking her so hard Glinda still felt Elphie's fingers inside her. She wanted to ask what came over her, but she was too grateful to tempt fate. She had kept mostly silent, first out of surprise, then out of guilt. In the months that Shell stayed with them, Elphie hadn't touched her. But it didn't stop Shell. He had gotten brazen. Ever since he held her in the kitchen all those weeks back. He now forced her hands against him. Forced his hands against her. Pieces of her came out between her garments, between her lips, between her cheeks. She would wrestle away but not before his fingers dug their way inside her. Wherever she was, she found herself calculating Shell's location and marking the fastest path to escape him should he come near.

She should have told Elphie, but how? How could she tell Elphie about Shell's advances? What good would come of it? The siblings' relationship was already strained. If Elphie found out Shell had been forcing himself on her, it would only hurt her. It was Glinda's job to endure it. To make Shell see the good in her.

But there was another reason she was afraid to tell. She was afraid that Elphie might think that she solicited it. One molesting could be counted as a tragedy, a second indicated carelessness. Some days she worried that her relationship with Elphie was already over. Their end imperceivable yet near all the same, like walking toward the edge of a cliff in a thick fog.

Tonight Elphie demonstrated her desire but would she still want her if she knew what was happening? "Elphie, do you think there are sins that are unforgivable?" Glinda ventured.

Elphie without looking up from her book said,

"Abuse."

Glinda felt relief. She had been so sure Elphaba, who barely trusted a soul, would say betrayal. Perhaps her sins with Shell could be atoned for but, alas, her joy was premature.

"To be exact, I believe it is the sins of touch that are unforgivable," Elphaba added, "for it is by touch we betray and are betrayed by others. Hands in acts of comfort that lie like a thief, that take, not give, that want, not offer, that awake, not pacify. The only thing worse than the sin of touch is the sin of feeling, especially the depths of sordid comfort that such thieving touch arouses."

A day later, Elphaba was helping Nessa clean the upstairs rooms and Glinda was downstairs, peeling one potato after another, grateful for the small comfort of habit.

Then she smelt him. Even the faintest whiff of Shell's sweat could make Glinda nauseous. He was behind her in an instant, both of her breasts in his palms. She dropped the knife, suppressing a shriek. Elphie was upstairs. What was he thinking!? She grabbed at his hands, trying to pry them off of her, his fingers pinching her, forcing feelings into her crevices. She bit the inside of her cheek. One of his hands yanked at her curls, snapping her head back. She screamed. He flung her around and slapped her face. Once. Twice. Punching her in the stomach. She couldn't breathe. She was on her knees. A ringing in her ears. Elphaba was flying downstairs and coming between them, appearing to shout, but Glinda couldn't hear a thing. Then, suddenly:

"What did you do? What did you do to her?" Elphaba yelled.

"Why couldn't it be her that's done something to me? To us?" Shell asked.

"She would never!"

"You would defend her character over mine?"

"The brother I knew never needed a defense!"

Shell pounded his fists on the counter before he left for the Weavers. Glinda wished she could leave her thoughts, leave her body. Exhausted and alone, she prayed for a second amnesia.

…

That night whatever Glinda knew, she was keeping to herself. Sitting up in bed with Glinda lying beside her, eyes closed, Elphaba fumed at Shell, at the situation, at her own weaknesses, but she couldn't show it. Glinda was already closing in on herself. She had felt so distant these past weeks that Elphaba had to touch her, had to confirm that Glinda still felt the same way about her. But even that touch only made Elphaba more worried. Glinda had been silent. No moans, no groans, no affirmations afterward. Her body felt stiff. Almost like she felt when Elphaba tried to kiss her after the philosophy club. Elphaba couldn't blame Glinda. Elphaba hadn't touched Glinda in months, had practically turned away from her every time the woman looked in her direction. But she didn't think Glinda would be so offended. How ungrateful Elphaba was. She had spent months waiting for Shell and now all she wished for was Glinda to return to her.

…

Elphaba had thawed. She caressed, kissed, and embraced her, but Glinda couldn't reciprocate. She was a dirty, shameful liar. She didn't deserve Elphaba's tenderness. She didn't deserve any affection at all. Not when she has been receiving so much from Shell. So when Nessa let it slip that Elphaba's birthday was next week, Glinda wanted to make up for all of her sinful wickedness. She wanted to show Elphaba how much she loved her, her and only her. Shell and Nessa had left for the Weavers. Glinda canceled her classes for that day and solicited Pfannee and Avaric's help to distract Elphaba. Dragging her out of the cabin, the couple claimed they needed Elphaba's help to decide where to build a classroom in the trees for more Weaver children. Left all alone, Glinda prepared the nutmeg milk and birthday cake. She was finishing the glazing when she heard the door open. She stood in front of her creation, and turned around, wanting to hide it from Elphaba's sight. But Elphaba wasn't there. Shell came in instead. Her head dropped.

"What are you doing here by yourself?"

"Nothing," Glinda said, not wanting to talk, lest she earn herself a slap.

"You lie. What's behind her back?" he asked, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her away from her work. "What's this?"

"It's for Elphie's birthday."

Shell's eyes flinched. Had he forgotten his sister's birthday?

"And what have you made for me?" he asked.

"I didn't know it was my Master's birthday today too," she couldn't help but sass.

He popped her cheek, sharp. It stung, but she refused to give him a cry.

"If you haven't made me anything to eat, then give me yourself to enjoy. Undress."

Her stomach dropped. He wouldn't! Not on his sister's birthday. Glinda shook her head.

"I said undress!"

"I won't! It's Elphie's birthday. She'll be back any minute."

"Undress quickly then or I'll tell her what we've been doing."

"I haven't wanted any part of this!"

"She won't care. You betrayed her," he said, undoing his trousers.

"No! Shell! Please! She won't forgive me! Please, don't do this!" Glinda begged, warm tears gathering.

"The problem is she already has forgiven you," he said, grabbing her arm, flinging her face down across the kitchen table. Glinda's cheekbone felt the divots in the wood. Her arms could only flail at her sides. He ripped at her dress, spitting it from behind, and dragging it down her hips, leaving her heavy breasts pressed against the table. They were his to command. He leaned on her, making her aware of her tiny she was, while his hands reached under her to pinch and roll her pink nipples. Glinda struggled. Her face went hot with a blush so deep it scalded. His hands were persistent. Glinda dampened. Try as she might to keep her legs closed, Shell forced them open. For the first time, he didn't use his fingers. It burned between her legs, unbearably. Until Shell worked up a rhythm. No matter how Glinda twisted, she knew she wasn't strong enough to stop Shell. He wouldn't stop until he finished. But the more she struggled, the more she realized she wasn't trying to stop him: she was trying to stop herself.

…

Elphaba traipsed around the trees, being drug this way and that by Pfannee and Avaric, with Boq joining in the shenanigans. Finally, hours later, she managed to free herself from her escorts to dash home. It was her birthday today. Last year's birthday, she spent in a lake, knocked unconscious. This year she was looking forward to being present. Glinda was surprising her or attempting to do so. Elphaba couldn't help but notice the kitchen was stocked with ingredients for nutmeg milk and cake. It had made Boq, Pfannee, and Avaric's morning charade all the more charming. What a darling, Glinda was. Elphaba had never been celebrated. As a child, when she had birthday celebrations, the royal court's children—and some of the royal court members—would stare at and whisper about her. Elphaba found that she preferred to celebrate her birthdays in private, hidden away in the library. But today Elphaba was actually looking forward to being the center of Glinda's attention, to having all of Glinda to herself. When she arrived at the cabin, she expected Glinda to burst out the front door to greet her, but the grounds were quiet.

Entering, Elphaba saw Glinda sitting at the table in a different dress than she had on that morning. Shell sat beside her. Glinda looked at her feet. Her brother looked at the fire. No one greeted her.

"Good afternoon, you two," Elphaba called.

Glinda's head turned. Seeing Elphaba, she jumped to her feet. Her eyes watery, her mouth smeared with cake crumbs.

"Elphaba, happy birthday!" she said with a tiny tremor in her voice. Elphaba looked around, for the cake and nutmeg milk she was expecting but saw none. Smiling, she blurted,

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Glinda asked.

"The…I mean…Glinda, the cake, of course!" she said, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. She was never good at voicing her wants.

"The cake…oh, you knew about it!" Glinda said, looking like she might burst into tears. Surely, a spoiled surprise wasn't worth this kind of anguish.

"Boq came by and said he wanted something to eat," Shell said, and then looking at Glinda "Apparently, the girl can't stop herself from giving Boq whatever his heart desires."

Glinda looked as if she had been stabbed, eyes wide, breath stopped, body rigid.

"Isn't that right, Glinda?" Shell asked.

After the briefest of hesitations, Glinda nodded and whispered,

"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry, my lady."

The title felt insufferable, as if Glinda was nullifying all that had transpired since she entered their house. Why would the girl lie? Boq had been with her all day. He hadn't come here.

It hit her.

The way Glinda kept to herself. The way she was always looking over her shoulder. The way she couldn't reciprocate any physical affection of late. Why hadn't Elphaba seen it sooner? She hadn't wanted to see it. She hadn't wanted to believe it. That her brother could do something so vile, so disgusting of his own free will. A wave of self-loathing hit Elphaba so hard she thought she would vomit. Instead, she reached out to Glinda, cupping her cheek. The girl winced and refused to meet her eyes.

With a shaking hand, Elphaba said, "My love, go upstairs and wait for me," surprising both Glinda and her brother. She had never been so unreserved around him.

"I ruined your birthday celebrations," was all Glinda could mumble.

"My pretty, you haven't ruined anything," she said and kissed Glinda's forehead, wanting to commit it to memory. Glinda's hand rose to her mouth to muffle a cry. She turned away and dashed upstairs.

Shell sucked his tooth and said,

"What endearments for a mere Gillikinese! You're embarrassing yourself, Fabala."

"Get out," Elphaba said.

"What did you say?" Shell asked.

Elphaba picked up the kitchen knife on the counter and turned to face her brother.

"I said leave and don't ever come back."

"You don't know what you're saying!"

"I should have noticed. Was it so hard to think that she loved me and not you? Was it so hard, dear brother, to be second best?" Elphaba asked, her voice tight with sarcasm.

Shell sighed.

"Are we really so different? Am I the villain because I didn't trick her into falling in love with me? You violated her as well as I did. Do you honestly think Galinda would have loved you? You are of the same stock as the Princess, all smoke and masquerades. I don't regret what I did. I did it for us. I chose to be honest, with her and myself. Now leave that whore and let's go home."

He was right. She had tricked Glinda. This was all her fault. Her wishes had come true. She couldn't bear it. She had to tell Glinda the truth.

"I have no home with you, Shell. Trust me when I say I shall set my deceits right, but I never want to see your face again. If I am like the Princess, then you are the spitting image of Chuffrey. All rage and impotence."

Shell's lip curled.

"How dare you equate—"

"GET OUT!" she yelled, lunging at him with the knife. He dodged her, scrambling to the door.

"If this is what you want, Elphaba, then so be it. I hope you're happy now that you're choosing this," he said, shutting the door behind him.

A/N: This update came much later than I expected. Thank you for the reviews and PMs encouraging me to continue and thank you for reading it despite delays and this chapter ending on quite a dark note. More to come.